


I Don't Trust You Anymore

by erintoknow



Series: my brain has claimed it's glory over me [1]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Exes, Gen, Girl's got issues, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Songfic, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, get therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 02:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20250931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: You want to scream. “I DID DIE.” Oops, you screamed.





	I Don't Trust You Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> [[I Don't Trust U Anymore by Left at London]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ddIoER3l_iU)

> But I don't trust them anymore  
No way, no way, no, not again  
And I may never trust at all  
No way, no way, I'm over them

“Oh, what, you think we just… what?” You throw your hands in the air. You know your losing your cool, but fuck it. The nerve of her. “You think we can just… pick up where we left off Julia? Like nothing fucking happened?”

There’s color in Ortega’s face now, eyes pinched. “Can’t we? God Crow, I thought you had _died_!”

You want to scream. “I DID DIE.” Oops, you screamed.

Conversations are hushed. People are looking at the two of you now. So much for coffee.

“Can’t we– Can’t we talk about this?” Julia’s gone quiet, had reaching across the table for yours. How dare she. How fucking dare she.

Crow winces, pushes up his glasses to press his wrists against his eyes. Crow –you, _you_ grit your teeth. Take a breath. “I’m sorry. I– I don’t want to fight you. I don’t want to do this. I’m just…” Crow leans back in the chair, stares into the sky. “I’m just so fucking tired Julia.”

Ortega watches Crow, both of them are still tense but neither one makes a move. “Are you okay, Crow?” she asks.

A million different responses run through your mind, you try to keep Crow’s face blank but you don’t know how successful you are. Can never gauge that shit. “No.” He says, finally. “I don’t think I’ve been okay in a long time.”

Julia is just dying to grab his hand, you can see it in her eyes. “And you can’t talk to me about it.” Perfect fucking Julia Ortega. Is she tearing up? She can’t fool you. You were an idiot to ever trust the first pretty face that smiled your way. Well not anymore. You won’t make that mistake again.

“No.” Crow chokes out. She betrayed you once. She’ll do it again. She doesn’t understand. Won’t understand. Could never understand what you’re going through. What you’re feeling.

“Okay.” You wait for her to say something else, but the silence drags on.

Crow grimaces. “Thanks. I guess.”

“But you should still talk about it with someone.” She snags your hand as Crow puts it down on the table. She’s warm to the touch. The memory is like a knife. Crow winces, yanks his hand back. She looks at Crow– _you_, damnit, she looks at you, hurt.

“What? Like fucking therapy?” Crow makes a face. She’s not serious, is she?

“Exactly. It really helped me, you know.”

Crow blinks, “You never told me you went to therapy.”

She laughs, it sounds fake. “You didn’t give me the chance, Crow! And yeah, I went to therapy. I’m still going.” Her voice drops again, a tiredness in her face. “I spent seven years thinking I caused your death.”

“I– I wasn’t the only one that died, Julia.”

“But you were the one I–“

“Don’t say it.” Crow grimaces. Those days are going and not coming back. The sooner she realizes it the better. For both of you.

“But– Well. _Please_, Crow. Consider it won’t you?”

Crow sinks down, holding his head up in his hands. God. So fucking tired of this bullshit. This is another fucking trap. Something that’ll be used against you. You just know it. But Crow– damnit, _you_ don’t have the energy to fight more on this right now. Just make her go away, please. “Fine.” Crow says. “Whatever.”

> You made me question my faith  
I started learning it hasn't gotten worse  
It's never been great  
I see you suck up to me as they attack my sisters  
And before we would shake hands  
You bellowed in the bathroom  
Out, damned spot!  
But I guess that you're proud of me, though

When Crow gets home, you keep the lights on long enough to toss his stuff in the stuff pile and throw his first two layers of clothing in the laundry pile. After that it’s to the bathroom to brush teeth and take care of business before finally, finally, fucking finally falling backwards into bed. There’s a busy night ahead to be had.

Tonight Crow finds that letting go is weirdly hard. The coffee with Julia still echoing around your head. What fucking lier. Something is up with her. She just happens to find Crow in a random shitstop food shack? She just _happens_ to start jogging the same route as Morrígan? Bullshit. She’s always been sneaky, playing her own game. You’re not getting sucked back in again.

No way, no how.

Crow tries to relax until the black finally comes and–

You jolt awake, and scramble to turn on the light. The nausea and disorientation settles quickly enough. You’re getting more and more used to jumping between bodies. You pull yourself up and out of bed, stretch your limbs, reorient yourself within your body. Tonight’s to-do list is going to be a lengthy one, better look fucking fierce for it.

The bathroom mirror shows your reflection and you smile back. Bright brown eyes, your curling red hair falling down in waves over your shoulders and down your back as you brush it out of your face. Run it clean with a wash rag. Touch things up with a little make-up , and you’ll have the good doctor eating out of your hand tonight.

Even straight out of bed, the woman in the mirror puts Crow’s gross, gangly frame to shame. His pallid complexion, and sullen eyes, the oil in his jet black hair. You can’t really blame Julia for thinking something’s wrong with the boy. He _looks_ like a mess. The damn fool ought to start putting more effort in his appearance if he wants Julia to back off.

Maybe you’ll add looking into replacement mirrors on your to-do list for tonight.

> I remember the days when  
Your wretched image didn't make me sick  
And I wish it could still be like that


End file.
